Birds of a Feather

Chapter 11: A Lesson in Coping Without Drugs-- :(

  ***minor smut warning (appears at the end of this chapter)        

          By the time Pansy had arrived home, everyone had their own ideas of what went down. At first, we all gave our ideas until Blaise shushed all of us. He glared us all down, the same way he used to when people got to talking about his mother. If there was anything Blaise was good at, it was shutting down a room with a single look. Even I knew to watch myself around him, so I shut up.

          I looked at all our organized evidence, sticky notes with names of who's incriminated by which pile, to distract myself. Andrea Smith. The name jumped out at me. Sent shivers down my spine. Rested in my knotted stomach. I felt like her name might attack me like she used to. Andrea Smith. My mother. In a matter of days, I would sue her for child abuse and neglect. Maybe more. I tried not to look at the bruises and cuts under her name. The pictures were impossible to ignore. The writings too. Her writings, mine. The ramblings of two insane kids whose lives were forever interconnected. When I looked at the writings, it was near impossible to tell where she started and I began. The thought made me sick. But a small part of me relished it. My mom was a complicated woman. Insane and violent, but also smart and strong. Being like her wasn't entirely bad, but it was also horrible enough to make my stomach twist. I reached to turn her pile over but the thought of touching the evidence made my skin crawl.  

          A pile next to hers caught my eye. Maria Revelton. Blaise's mother. There was no point suing a dead woman, but the pile still sat there. I had a feeling Blaise hadn't brought all of his evidence here. Honestly, he probably had evidence gathered on each of us too. Enough evidence to destroy all of us. This was enough to destroy all of us. I still found myself wondering what he had on me. Blaise had never trusted no one, not even Pansy fully. I'd done some illegal shit with him. Drugs, violent fights, among other things. I'd done a lot of things people might consider immoral for money. Not a lot that anyone could prove. But the suspicions would be enough to destroy me. It's funny, how fast someone can be ruined. And I mean, utterly ruined. Nothing left ruined. Matteo was ruined just like that. Blaise too. Sometimes I found myself thinking that he'd bounced back, but I don't think he ever truly did. That kind of shit you can never recover from. The truth is, people don't really care about you. Not most of them at least. They're biding their time, using you to survive. We form relationships, not because we want the people, but because we need something they have. Money, power, protection. Everyone offers you something, in some way or another. Even if that thing is just comfort. Lord knows I needed some of that. But there was never no one there to comfort me. I didn't meet Jack until it was a little too late for me. For who I was. I stared at the pile in front of me again. She did this to me, I reminded myself. She killed who I was, not me. I wasn't to blame for any (or at least most) of this, right? 

          I swiped my hand over the piles again as Pansy stormed through the kitchen. People practically jumped out of her way as she threw herself up the stairs, Blaise hot on her heels. Crashing sounds echoed their ways up the hall as they ran, careless feet and hands knocking down portraits and plants.

          "Well, that looks like it went well," Marco muttered sarcastically.

          Daphne walked in next, calm and slow, and took a seat by the counter. She didn't look at any of us as she reached for her abandoned mug on the counter. She got up and made herself a cup of tea with everyone's eyes on her. "I'm not going to tell you anything so you might as well stop looking," she said with her back turned.

          Most of us dropped it then, but I still asked, "Is she okay?"

          Daphne shrugged. "She will be." 

          I dropped my head and watched the evidence in front of me again. "Who do you think will go next?" I asked, attempting to change the topic since everyone was clearly watching Daphne, and now, me.